


Bones

by monicawoe, quickreaver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Disturbing Themes, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt Sam Winchester, Lucifer as Sam | Sam as Lucifer, Nosebleed, Protective Dean Winchester, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monicawoe/pseuds/monicawoe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/quickreaver/pseuds/quickreaver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third trial.</p><p>fic inspired by art, inspired by the lyrics: "Everything goes away, but I'm gonna be here until I'm nothing but bones in the ground, so quiet down,"<br/>-'Always Gold', by Radical Face</p><p>(written by monicawoe, art by quickreaver at the end of work)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quickreaver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quickreaver/gifts).



The third trial sounded way too easy at first. Sam had expected it to be incredibly difficult, painful, and something so crazy nobody but a Winchester would ever consider signing up for. Kevin had given them the entirety of what the tablet had to say: coordinates — a harmless looking cave hidden away in the Catskill Mountains, and three words: "Your own judgement."

This was the last trial — if Sam made it through, Hell would close. Forever. Every single evil thing down below would stay there without ever having another chance at escape. Including Lucifer.

Sam had been getting weaker every day, each trial draining more of his own soul, feeding something else. To him, it felt like his own energy was being sucked down into the earth, into the thin ethereal layer separating this world and Hell. Reinforcing the barrier, maybe, or aligning him with it. Sam wasn't entirely sure, and it was probably better that way. Here inside the absolute blackness of the cave his imagination was doing its best to remind him of every dreadful thing he'd ever faced. So many demons, and angels, and monsters…the worst of which had been himself.

He swiped at his nose as it started bleeding again, like it did most days now, and walked further into the cave, his hands feeling the stone surface of the narrow passage. It grew slicker with moisture, leading towards an underground lake maybe. Sam longed for light, feeling that innate panic all humans feel when they don't know what's ahead of them, but he pressed on, eager to get it over with. Dean had followed him to the cave, of course, but as soon as Sam had stepped through the cave had sealed shut — no rock-slide, no door, it just closed around him instantly, sealing him in.

"Judgement," Sam whispered. "My own judgement…use my own judgement?" As he wondered for the one-hundred and third time that day what it would mean for him, he noticed that he could make out his boots. There was light. Barely there, but there nonetheless…a flicker of soft yellow up ahead. He couldn't see much beyond his feet, but his heart felt just a little lighter. If he could see, then he'd at least know what he was about to face.

His foot bumped against something that made a hollow sound as it rolled a few feet ahead of him. He slowed his steps, as the light grew a bit brighter and saw a cavern filled with candles. On the ground, directly ahead of him was a skull. A human skull — adult, probably female. He stepped around it and kept moving until he got closer to the center of the stone room. There were stalactites hanging from above, and candles placed on top of each of the stalagmites below, hissing occasionally as liquid dripped down from above.

 _"I was dead from the moment we said hello,"_ a voice whispered.

It was her voice, he knew it was her. "Jess?" Sam asked, shivering as the temperature in the cave plummeted.

_"I told you, didn't I? That without me you'd crash and burn."_

Sam swallowed and tried to find the source of the voice, but it seemed to be coming from all around him. His eyes landed on the skull again, and for just a moment he saw Jess's hair, her beautiful face, her soft skin, just like she'd been before she…

_"And you burned. For a long, long time. So did I, you know."_

"Jess, I'm so sorry. I didn't—" Sam kneeled down next to her as she became more solid, more real, and his fingers trembled as he reached out to touch her.

_"You could have stopped it all right then. You could have saved me, if you'd just told me the truth."_

The image of the body surrounding the skull faded as Sam stroked his fingers down the side of her cheek. His fingertips brushed against bone, and he pulled them back quickly, standing up as the candlelight flickered.

_"She's right, you know. You could have saved her."_

The deep voice sent another shudder through Sam's spine and he turned to see his father standing across from him, arms folded.

_"In fact, you could have saved all of us."_

"Dad, I tried— I tried everything...to stop Dean's deal, to stop the Apocalypse—"

 _"Which you started! You didn't stop anything, you started it all — both of you!"_ He took two steps forward and narrowed his eyes. " _I told_

_Dean to kill you if he had to…but I see it now. I should have done it myself."_

Decades of anger welled up in Sam, warring with a bone-deep despair. "Dad, I'm— I'm sorry."

_"Sorry doesn't undo everything you did, son. All the people you killed. You have any idea how many?"_

Sam shook his head and swallowed past the lump in his throat. Further back in the cave, other forms started to move. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam recognized faces…Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Pamela, Ash, the Campbells…all of them…so many people, so many friends that had lost their lives. All because of him. He closed his eyes, willing them away.

 _"Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands. Does it matter? Do you even care?"_ His father stepped closer and put his hand on Sam's shoulder. It felt startlingly real and solid, and his grip started to tighten, fingers pressing into Sam's flesh.

"Of course I care, I—" Sam backed away from his father, or tried to, but couldn't move. An arm wrapped around him from behind and his mother's voice whispered right into his ear, _"I should've let Azazel take you. At least then Dean would have had a good life."_ Her arm tightened, as strong as steel and squeezed Sam's ribs so hard they felt like they would crack.

The shadows to his left moved and something fast, with sharp teeth and inhuman eyes ran towards him. A clawed hand swiped at Sam, tearing into the skin of his arm, just below the sleeve. A barely human voice growled at him, but he recognized it, because he was meant to. He was meant to know everyone in this room. _Madison._

Bobby grabbed his other arm and pulled Sam towards him, a knife raised high in the air. _"Remember when you tried to kill me like this, boy?"_ The knife plunged down into Sam's chest, right into the center of his tattoo. _"I do. I always wished you'd done it then, saved me just a few more years of misery."_

The flames in the center of the cavern grew impossibly high, reaching up until they hit the stalactites above, endless bars of pure flame forming a spiral shaped cell. A cage.

"Stop," said a voice. The one Sam feared more than all the others.

The arm around his waist, his father's disappointed face, Bobby, Madison and all the others crowding around him fell apart. Flesh melted away and they broke into nothing but bones, striking the ground one by one.

Something was crawling towards him from the prison of fire. It pulled itself along on all fours, wobbly, like it barely had the strength and stopped a few feet away, raising its blackened head. There were empty sockets where the eyes would have been and the mouth had melted shut, but Sam knew who he was looking at, because he was meant to know.

"Adam."

The pitiful thing that used to be his half-brother shrunk back at the sound of his voice, and turned around, hobbling back towards the cage.

"He's forgotten how to speak. He's forgotten that he ever knew how," Lucifer said, his voice steady and clear and real and _exactly_ like Sam's.

Sam closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable burn of the flames. If Lucifer was here, pain was only a heartbeat away.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Sam. Not this time. This is your choice. It has to be."

Hesitantly, Sam met the Devil's eyes. They looked hazel, like his own, and no matter how hard Sam searched, he couldn't see the arrogant, cruel archangel anywhere in them. "Who are you?"

"You've made it this far, Sam. You've earned the right to close the gate once and for all, but you know there's a price. There is always a price."

Sam nodded. "I know. Whatever it is, yes. I have to do this."

His counterpart nodded back at him sadly. "Of course you do." He smiled. "Speak the words and seal Hell for all time."

Sam looked down as he pulled the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, even though he'd memorized the spell already. When he looked back up, the being that had been wearing his face was gone, along with the cage of fire. The candles burned dimly, as they had when he'd first entered the room.

"Kahee dehrah behvohta moen pahee deh," Sam spoke, his voice echoing oddly in the large room, amplified perhaps by the power in the words.

Three things happened at once: the candles all went out, Sam felt a pain unlike any he had ever known tear through his whole body, and Dean's voice cut through the cave, as clear as a bell.

"Sam!" Dean yelled. "Sammy!"

Sam couldn't answer, too busy trying to figure out what was happening to him through the blinding pain. He'd fallen to the ground and he

was staring right at the skull that he was sure had been his father minutes earlier. When he tried to look for Dean, certain he'd heard his voice, the whole ground began to shift, and he felt himself start to slide. Straight ahead of him was darkness — absolute and endless.

Sam felt Dean's hand grab hold of his shirt, trying to slow his slide. "No. No…Dean you have to get out. Run."

Dean kneeled down next to him, his body angled to stop his feet from slipping, and put his arm under Sam's head, lifting him up off the bone-strewn ground as best he could. "Why would I do that?"

"Because…because I'm the lock." He looked down at his feet — where his feet used to be, watching himself dissolve one cell at a time.

"I'm going to seal Hell."

"Yeah, you are. And so am I." Dean slowly straightened his legs, laid down next to Sam, and held on.

 


End file.
